Future Possibilities
by Luckylily
Summary: It was, Felicity recognised, the beginning of the end. Before long Team Arrow would cease to exist. She just wasn't ready to go back to her old life yet. But when she'd put out a few feelers about potential jobs coming up, an approach from the Applied Sciences dept. of Wayne Enterprises and dinner with the company's CEO himself wasn't quite what she was expecting.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, it's been ages since I've written anything, which means this fic will probably be a little rough, but I've been struck by Olicity ship and chapter 3 of Anthfan's fantastic story Dust to Dust inspired this fic.

I have been over it several times, but it isn't beta'd so apologies for any glaring mistakes re spelling/grammar...other than that, enjoy :)

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Future Possibilities

It had been nearly three years since Felicity Smoak had joined Team Arrow, and it was, she recognised, the beginning of the end.

They'd worked relentlessly to cross off every name within the book left to Oliver by his father and they were finally at the point where the end was in sight – only a couple more pages remained.

Crime was down; the city was nearly back on its feet and in the not so distant future there would be little need for Oliver to continue his charade of The Hood.

Although the three of them would always be bonded together in ways it would be impossible for outsiders to understand, and would, without a doubt stay in touch, eventually they would start to grow apart as their own lives took priority outside of the basement of Verdant and the secrets they'd shared there.

It was a sad, uncomfortable truth but Felicity wasn't stupid. The only constant in life was change.

In some ways it had already started happening.

Diggle had finally married Carly six months ago and from her conversations with the older woman it wouldn't be long until they decided to start trying for a baby and provide AJ with a younger sibling.

As for Oliver…well, Felicity supposed, he would likely have more time for Laurel and their on again, off again relationship saga which had been going on for the past two years.

It was exhausting being put through it as Oliver's friend; she couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be one of the two people involved.

There were times she wanted to shake the pair of them for being so stupid and putting themselves through it over and over again.

What would it take for Oliver to realise that the Laurel in front of him wasn't the one he'd made up in his head during his time on the island?

When would Laurel realise that Oliver wasn't the same person that ran off with her sister? That even though she'd managed to forgive him for his sins, some actions would irrevocably damage a relationship ensuring that it would never be the same again?

Not that Oliver would be prepared to hear anything anyone had to say regarding his relationship with Laurel. As far as he was concerned she could do no wrong, and anything she did that hurt him… well that was his own fault for the numerous stunts he'd pulled in the past.

It was one of the reasons she'd never voiced her own feelings on the subject of their relationship. She knew that doing so would only result in a fight with Oliver which would damage their friendship, but also because of her own feelings towards him.

How could she possibly give Oliver advice regarding Laurel when she was unsure of how much her disapproval over their relationship as a couple stemmed from her own feelings about him?

Oh, she knew nothing would ever happen between the two of them.

She'd known that since the moment they had first met.

She hadn't dwelt on the matter. Instead she choose to admire from afar, counted herself lucky that she was his friend, that she knew the true person underneath the persona he presented to the world; to Laurel.

Everything else she tucked into a metaphoric box that remained undisturbed.

She went on dates, met new people and actively worked on getting past those feelings for him completely. She refused to give up her chances of happiness over a dream that would never come true.

Now though, more than ever before, knowing that Oliver's time as a vigilante was coming to an end had forced her to focus on the direction her own life was taking.

Felicity was determined that she wasn't going to be left behind. She'd seen and done too much to be happy about the thought of going back to the life she'd led before becoming part of Team Arrow.

With that in mind, Felicity took a deep breath and smoothed a hand down over the front of the black dress she was wearing before studying herself in the mirror. The black lace midi dress hugged her curves with a smooth bodycon fit which left her arms bare and dropped down just below her knees. The rather demure neckline ensured that it was both elegant and sexy while still being suitable for a business dinner.

She'd pulled her hair back into a loose, wavy updo and done away with her usual pink lipstick for the might, opting for a deeper, more sophisticated red instead.

It was, she hoped, a look that portrayed confidence.

When she'd put out a few feelers to get an idea of potential jobs that were available, she never, not for one moment imagined that a month later she would be going out with Bruce Wayne to discuss a new role within his company he was hoping she'd be interested in.

But as crazy as it seemed - she was.

Stepping into a black pair of killer high heel shoes, Felicity grabbed her clutch bag, gave herself one last look over in the mirror before double checking that she had everything she needed. The weather was warm, so she made the decision to not to take a coat and headed out of her apartment to where a cab would be waiting providing the driver was on time.

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Desperately trying to not fidget or show the slightest hint of unease Felicity entered Noir, an exclusive French restaurant where she'd agreed to meet with Bruce Wayne and approached the hostess stand.

There was no reason for her to be nervous, she reminded herself. This was not a date. This was just a business dinner.

"Good evening. Welcome to Noir." The blonde behind the podium greeted her with a polite smile.

"Good evening, I'm Felicity Smoak, I'm here to meet with Mr Wayne."

"Of course, Mr Wayne advised that he was expecting you. He is at the bar awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you." A sudden burst of confidence surged through her at the knowledge that business dinner or not, she wasn't about to be stood up or have to sit awkwardly at the bar by herself while waiting for him to arrive.

Turning her attention to the direction in which the hostess had motioned, Felicity entered the bar area of the restaurant and scanned its occupants for Bruce Wayne.

Almost instantly she spotted him and as though he knew that she had just arrived, he turned in his seat, dark eyes fixing on her with a burning intensity.

As she approached him the billionaire stood, his face smoothly transforming into a charming smile. It was the kind of mask she'd witnessed Oliver present to people time and time again.

"Mr Wayne, it's very nice to meet you." Felicity said as she offered her hand towards him suddenly feeling relatively short despite the pair of heels she was wearing. Wow, he was tall. And good looking. It was the eye's she decided. The way they appeared to delve into your very soul. It was very easy to see why he'd been voted Gotham's number one bachelor; despite his proclaimed list of rather unusual hobbies. Really, who on earth would want to go pot-holing?

"The pleasure is all mine," he assured her. Then instead of shaking her hand as she'd expected he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

The action had her stifling a gasp of surprise; although given the knowing gleam in his eyes she doubted she'd hidden her reaction particularly well. Damn it! She hated acting in the same manner, which was no doubt, exactly the same way hundreds of other women reacted – but it was so difficult when faced with such a man.

"But please, call me Bruce." His eyes trailed the length of her body approvingly before returning to her face. "You look beautiful Miss Smoak, I'm sure to be the envy of more than one man tonight."

The compliment caused her to blush, but also brought a genuine smile to her face. "Thank you. But if I'm to call you Bruce, it is only fair that you call me Felicity."

"Absolutely, I was hoping you'd say that." And there it was again, a devilish glint in his eyes as he raised her hand to his lips for a second time and brushed another kiss to her knuckles before letting her go. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of red before you arrived. I understand that you are fond of it. Would you care for a glass?" Bruce asked as he gestured to the bar.

"That sounds perfect." Felicity replied as she took a seat at the bar while Bruce poured them both a glass of red wine that had been opened and left to breathe. She wanted to peak at the label but it was turned away and she felt that it could come across as being a little rude to ask.

It would probably be amazing anyway.

Billionaires could afford high quality red wine.

"A toast," Bruce announced as he handed Felicity her glass of wine and picked up his own. "To working together, which I hope after tonight, will be a very real possibility."

Felicity smiled at him and raised her glass. She could do this; she could get through the evening without making a complete cake of herself.

Dealing with Oliver, Digg and the various scenario's they'd found themselves in over the past few years had helped grow her poise and confidence.

"To the possibility of working together," she echoed as they sealed the toast with a gentle clink of their glasses.

Besides, she reminded herself as she took a sip of wine; you already know his most important secret. And if anything does go wrong tonight, it cannot possibly be any more embarrassing than running around Gotham dressed in a bat costume…even if it was as a vigilante.

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A/N: So..thoughts, reviews? A smiley face will do!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, thank you to everyone for all the reviews, alerts and favourites. I was blown away by the response and I can only hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations.

Again this chapter is unbeta'd and despite my efforts, if any errors remain then I hope you can forgive me :)

Oh - and for plot line purposes, Bruce is a little bit older than Oliver in this.

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Chapter 2

So far, the evening has been surprisingly pleasant.

The restaurant is beyond is all of her wildest expectations, the food is amazing and the wine perfect. They are seated in one of the best spots, relatively secluded from the other diners surrounding them which allows a certain amount of privacy. The gentle glow of the lightning and the soft sound of the piano in the background beneath the quiet murmur of other people's conversation only adds to the ambience.

Of course, the fact that Bruce Wayne happens to be an exceedingly charismatic man who quickly puts her at ease with his relaxed, polite manners doesn't hurt either.

Basking in the wine and intelligent conversation, Felicity can't help but feel ridiculously pleased with herself that she so far she hasn't started rambling once.

To start off with she feels uncomfortable with the amount of attention they are attracting despite doing her best to ignore it, but Bruce obviously picks up on it and as they walk from the bar to the table waiting for them, he keeps his hand pressed reassuringly against the small of her back and makes a point of pulling her chair out himself and ensuring she is comfortably settled before take his own seat.

A rush of pleasure runs through her and she lets it. She's never had a man treat her in such a way before and while she knows that Bruce has probably treated hundreds of women he has dated in the same manner she lets herself enjoy it all the same.

It'll probably never happen again. She's aware that his best behaviour is more down to his want to impress her so that she'll accept his job offer than his desire to impress her as a man wants to impress a woman, but she's ok with that. Manners are manners regardless.

Throughout the meal they talk business, the direction in which he wishes to take Wayne Enterprises. Bruce talks about the job he wishes to offer her in great detail, what she would be responsible for, who she would report to. The benefits she would receive as an employee. There would be an apartment provided in one of the safest areas of Gotham. A chauffeur would be available at all times to take her to and from work and anywhere else she would like to go. A travel allowance would be provided so she would be in a position to return to Starling City on a regular basis to visit family. Flexible working hours to suit her.

"Of course," Bruce added after a pause while the waiter removed the remains of their cheese course, "there would also be a generous salary, full healthcare benefits and so on." He reached into his suit jacket and extracted an envelope. "I have had a draft contract drawn up for you to review. If there is any section of it that you are not happy with, please do not hesitate to let me know so we may discuss it further."

He handed the envelope over to her and Felicity opened it, her eyes scanning the contents and widening in shock as she caught sight of the offered salary. She glanced up at Bruce but the billionaire gazed steadily back at her as though he hadn't just offered her a six figure salary.

Her mouth suddenly dry, Felicity reached out for her wine glass and took a sip and set it back down rather quickly hoping that the man opposite her hadn't picked up on the slight tremor of her hand. Folding the employment contract back up, Felicity slid it back into the envelope and placed it beneath her clutch bag on the right hand side of the table.

She made good money at Queen Consolidated but the offer that Wayne Enterprises had made to her was more than simply good money.

She wasn't a material person; she knew money wasn't the be all and end all of life. But it was still an important thing to consider.

"It is a generous offer." Felicity said a moment after clearing her throat. "Not the kind of offer which is generally presented to a simple IT girl."

"You are far more than a simple IT girl." Bruce countered with an amused smile.

Felicity blushed and pursed her lips, determined not to let him to lead her off course. "I have the feeling however, that there is something more to this offer."

Nodding, Bruce sat forward in his chair and rested his forearms on the edge of the table while he drummed his fingers on the pristine tablecloth beneath his hands. "Felicity, I'm going to be blunt with you. The chance of luring you to Wayne Enterprises was not my sole motivation in meeting you here. I have no doubt, that if you are even half the woman I believe you to be that you have already pieced together the more…unusual aspects of my life. If you were to agree to it, I would of course, like you to offer various support in that capacity as well," he continued, picking his words carefully, conscious of the numerous people at the restaurant before his serious air gave way to one of amusement. "For obvious reasons," he admitted quietly, "I won't be in a position to include that within the employee contract. I did take it into consideration when calculating the salary mind you."

A gurgle of laughter escaped Felicity at the thought. It hadn't taken much for her to put the names Batman and Bruce Wayne together. She's gone through the perils of a secret identity with Oliver; she knows the signs to look for.

Bruce shifted in his seat and paused for a moment to take a sip of his wine. For the first time throughout the entire evening Felicity felt something other than assured confidence come off of Bruce Wayne.

"I say this because I want to be clear with you. Whatever the decision you come to after tonight regarding what I'm about to say, the job that we've discussed this evening, that still stands. Providing of course," He said with a wry smile, "you don't feel as though I have put you in a position that would make you feel uncomfortable accepting it."

Felicity offered him an encouraging smile and placed her hands in her lap so she didn't start fiddling with the stem of her wine glass out of nerves. What more could there possibly be?

"I don't have a lot of family. None really, at least according to most people." He leant forward to speak in a hushed voice as though imparting a secret of great importance. "For some reason they don't count the butler. But Alfred is my family."

Felicity nodded in understanding. There were times when family wasn't just blood. She felt the same way when it came to Oliver and Diggle, despite the fact that her feelings towards Oliver weren't strictly platonic.

"I'm going to be thirty-six next month." Bruce announced, "as far as most men are concerned, at such an age there is still plenty of time to think about the future. But I am conscious that such an opportunity is not likely to come up again. The opportunity to become involved with someone that I wouldn't have to lie to throughout the entirety of our relationship. Someone that understands every aspect of my life." His eyes locked onto her own, pierced deep into soul as he studied her. "I have given this a great deal of thought. It isn't something that I have decided on the spur of the moment." Bruce said as he tried to make sure she understood what he was trying to tell her.

Biting her bottom lip, Felicity did her best to maintain eye contact. Glancing away momentarily to try and gather her thoughts she quickly turned her attention to the man sitting across from her and took a healthy sip of wine.

She wasn't entirely sure where this conversation was going. Well…she thought she did…maybe…possibly.

But that being said, she was probably just flattering herself. Pursing her lips to ensure nothing could slip out Felicity waited to for Bruce to start again, determined not to make a fool of herself.

Sensing that she was ready for him to continue Bruce sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled together in front of him as he tried to decide from where to pick up. "I understand that you're not currently dating anyone; that you haven't been in a serious relationship for quite some time. Three years, to be exact." He eyed her closely over the tips of his fingers. "The point I am trying to make Felicity, is that I want a partner in life. I don't want a trophy wife. I want someone that that will stand by me. Who can understand me and share my life. All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly." His eyes were pensive as he spoke, a dark pain buried in their depths. "And there is a lot of ugly." He remarked softly.

Biting down harder on her lower lip, Felicity stayed quiet and tried to give her brain a chance to digest everything that Bruce had told her so far. The job offer itself would have given her plenty to think about without the additional bomb shell he'd dropped on her.

Things like this didn't happen to girls like her.

But then again, she reminded herself, she could be misinterpreting him altogether. Computers were her thing, not people. "You…you would want me to be your girlfriend?" Felicity clarified.

Bruce's lips twitched and for a second Felicity panicked, terrified that she had got hold of the wrong end of the stick and was about to be laughed out of the restaurant. "I want you to be my wife."

The air in Felicity's lungs left with a sudden whoosh and her eyes grew large with astonishment, which on this occasion, were not hidden by her glasses. "But you don't know me!" She blurted out.

"You are strong. Capable. Intelligent. Loyal. Compassionate. Beautiful. Felicity, I know that I don't know your quirks, likes and dislikes, but I would like to think that I know the kind of person you are. One of the reasons I wanted to meet with you tonight was to find out if there would be any chemistry between us. At the moment there is an attraction and I would hope, given time and proximity to each other that it could develop into something more."

Talk about being gobsmacked."Wow."

"This would all depend of you of course. I want you to feel comfortable; anything that happens between us would be as fast or as slow as you want. If at some point you feel that it isn't working out you would simply need to say so. No recriminations. But at the end of the day, I want to build on this attraction between us. Build a future together. I would like to have children if that is something we both agreed on. To know that if something happened to me there would be someone left behind to take care of Alfred and ensure that Wayne Enterprises continues on in the right direction. I know that selfishly, I would be getting far more out of this than you but I would do my best to ensure that you are happy and have everything you could wish for, not just in a material sense. I admit that I have a reputation; one I have at times purposely built up to help maintain my cover, but I would be a faithful to you. The gossip magazines and tabloids never have any ammunition in that regard. I would do everything in my power to ensure that you never had any cause for regret."

Fanning herself with her hand, Felicity glanced at her glass of wine and wondered just how much she had had to drink. "Wow."

Nervously licking his lips, Bruce studied the blonde in front of him and wondered just how Oliver Queen hadn't seen what was right in front of him.

Whether or not Felicity had feelings for the younger man he didn't know, but even if she didn't her extra-curricular activities would have affected her social life and made it difficult for any long term relationships to have been formed.

He'd met Laurel Lance before, although she'd been dating Tommy Merlyn at that point, at some fund raiser or other and while he could admit she was an attractive woman, compared to Felicity he felt there was something lacking. Laurel was just so…bland in comparison. He hadn't been able to discern any real spark in the brunette while the woman in front of him all but glowed with life and good humour.

"I understand that it is a lot to consider, that now might not be the right time but I want to be clear, there isn't a timescale to this offer."

"Wow," Felicity commented once again. "I'm sorry, I know I'm repeating myself but I'm still in awe at the fact that I've just been propositioned by Bruce Wayne."

Bruce laughed and sat back in his chair.

There really was something so artlessly charming about her and she made him laugh. Loathe though he was to admit it, it had been far too long since something one genuinely made him laugh.

And Alfred would approve of her.

In fact, she'd probably have his butler wrapped around her little finger in no time at all.

He took the sign that she hadn't yet run away kicking and screaming as a good thing, but Bruce was aware that there was still a very big hurdle in the form of Oliver Queen to overcome before he could comfort himself in the knowledge that Felicity was in Gotham City. Even if she was unsure about the two of them beginning a relationship or there were residual feelings for Queen, if she was in Gotham he would have a much easier time of trying to woo her.

"Well," Bruce said as he smiled in a self-depreciating manner, "I feel as though I have been the only one talking throughout the evening."

"Oh, well, you kinda have been." Felicity blurted out, blushing as she realised what she'd just said. "But that's ok. I've been speechless for most of it. If you actually knew me, you'd know how rare that actually is. Not that you don't know me, because I'd like to think I do possess some of those qualities you listed earlier, but as you said you don't_ know_ know me. Usually I ramble. A lot. About anything. And I make unfortunate comments. Which can come across as being a bit dirty, except I don't mean them that way, and most times people wouldn't really notice only then I try to explain that I'm not actually making a pass at them at which point it becomes pretty awkward. Like now." She finished, drawing out the last two words.

"Well, since I have talked too much and rendered you speechless in the process, how about a dance instead?"

"I might step you your feet." Felicity chastised herself mentally, the evening had been going so well and here she was, losing control of her own mouth twice in less than two minutes.

"I might step on yours." Bruce countered smoothly as he stood from his seat and moved around the table to offer her his hand.

Smiling widely at his retort Felicity pushed back her chair and placed her hand in his to allow Bruce to lead her to the dance floor.

She can feel someone's eyes burning into the back of her head the same way she has through the entire meal with Bruce, but she refuses to turn around or acknowledge it. Instead she makes a conscious effort to avoid looking at any one of the people watching them as best she can.

Slowly they sway together in time to the music, Bruce navigating their way through a few of the other couples that have also had the same idea.

Felicity studies the man opposite her intently, searching for something in his eyes that can make her doubt anything he's told so far this evening.

But he stares back evenly and makes no attempt to hide anything from her. She can clearly read his sincerity along with hints of loneliness and remnants of old emotional wounds lurking in the depths of his brown eyes. But there's a spark of hope there as well.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" The words slip out softly before Felicity can control them and she bites down once again on her lower lip in embarrassment. Out of everything Bruce has said to her this evening it seems ridiculous to focus on that one remark. But it's not something she gets called.

She's familiar with cute or pretty. But words such as beautiful, sexy, gorgeous or stunning never seem to apply to her but some other women instead.

They pause on the dance floor and Bruce releases her hand to cup the side of her face, his thumb reaching out and gently extracting her abused lower lip from underneath her teeth.

"Yes." Bruce answers seriously. "Inside and out."

Unable to look him in the eye, Felicity dropped her gaze to the knot of his tie instead as Bruce caught hold of her hand and gently guided them back into their dance.

This, she thinks to herself, must be what it feels like to be someone like Laurel; admired for more than the brain inside your head. A shallow thought maybe, but Felicity can't imagine any woman that wouldn't like to be told she's beautiful regardless of the value they place on other characteristics.

The moment is broken however, when a hand firmly grasps hold of her upper arm and all but wrenches her out of Bruce's grasp.

A yelp of surprise escapes Felicity at the action, her eyes flying up to face her assailant in shock.

To her astonishment she finds Oliver staring down at her, ice cold blue eyes that are snapping with barely contained rage zero in on her in such way that Felicity can't suppress the shiver of trepidation which runs down her spine.

She can not see this ending well.

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A/N: So...any smiley faces for me having just read that?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to everyone for all your feedback and support, you can't believe how motivating it is :) An extra special thank you to quisinart4 as well for all your help when it came to reviewing this chapter and taking the time to point out various typos :) Any that are still showing are all my fault!

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Chapter 3

Pasting a smile on his face, Oliver focused on looking attentive as Laurel discussed the latest case she was working on.

Sometimes he wondered if they ever had anything else to talk about.

Not that he talked much when he was with her; at least about anything of substance.

Occasionally, when he'd been stuck on the island he'd allowed himself to think of the little things he missed most, the things that people took for granted; aside from not having to fight tooth and nail for his life every day. It didn't happen often; sometimes it was simply too painful and other times it was because every ounce of energy and willpower was focused on surviving just one more day.

When he got off the island, he'd promised himself that he'd just sit and listen to Laurel talk. Take comfort in the sound of her voice, the cadence of her tone and the way she formed her words.

Naively he hadn't given much thought as to how he would re-adjust to living in society after his time on the island. He'd been so caught up in planning how he would right his father's wrongs, correct his own wrongs in respect of Sara and make up for lost time that it had never occurred to him that he would spend so much of his life lying to the people he loves. That he would have to hide quite so much of himself away because he's scared of how they would react if they knew the truth.

Even Tommy, the man he'd considered a brother had been horrified at what he'd become.

Thankfully he had Felicity and Diggle, he doesn't know what he would have done without the pair of them.

Time and time again they've helped hold him together when he needed it, kept him on the right path and dealt with the inevitable fall out his actions often cause.

The word _friend_ is insufficient for the both of them; they mean so much more to him than that.

Maybe, he mused as he cut into his steak with a definite knife stroke, that was the problem with himself and Laurel.

They had never been friends.

Even at the very beginning when they'd first met, when he'd been madly in love with her and his feelings had been so crazy that they'd terrified him. Everything had been such a whirlwind of emotions that it seemed they'd bypassed friendship altogether and delved straight into a relationship that hadn't been healthy for either one of them at times.

One that, if he was totally honest with himself, still wasn't healthy.

And yet they kept putting themselves through it.

He doesn't really know why.

Because each time they get back together he hopes that their relationship will provide him with a sense of normalcy as if the island had never happened?

Because he feels that he owes it to Laurel for cheating on her with Sara?

A sense of self-flagellation perhaps for what they had done to Tommy?

The desperation to believe that if they make their relationship work that it would in some way justify their actions?

Laurel might not have been dating Tommy the first time they had slept together after his return from the island; but that didn't absolve them of wrong doing – they'd both known of Tommy's feelings.

He'd urged his best friend to talk to her! To fight for their relationship! And then several hours later he was in bed with her.

Their relationship was dysfunctional and not in any good kind of way that worked. Long hours at work, secrets, his strained relationship with her father, the way he'd treated her in their relationship in the past; all of it conspired against them.

Though he'd never given her any reason to doubt his commitment since they'd re-kindled their relationship after Tommy's death he wasn't blind to the emotional scars he'd caused.

Their sex life had dwindled into obscurity, no fun, no laughter. They spent two, maybe three nights together a week. And if there was any sex, the lights were left off and there was the smallest amount of foreplay possible before they fell into a basic position that allowed them to get off as quickly as possible.

Felicity and Diggle know how unstable his relationship with Laurel was, but neither one of them have the slightest clue as to how bad it really is.

God he misses oral sex.

It was no wonder they were making such progress through the list; he had to have some outlet for his physical energy.

They were both equally to blame; if they really wanted to make things work they'd have both made more of an effort.

His mood hadn't helped over the past few months; that was on him but Laurel has to give him something too. He can't make their relationship work by himself.

He can't help but feel unsettled by the knowledge that his time as The Hood would soon be coming to an end.

There might be the odd outing when it was called for but in general that aspect of his life was soon going to be over.

It had been his mission for such a long time; a huge driving factor in his life for the past eight years and soon it would be finished. When he'd returned to Starling City three years ago and started on his quest he'd imagined that he would be happy knowing that he'd avenged his father's mistakes; instead all he feels is apprehension.

Everything is changing and Oliver knows damn well that he isn't dealing with it particularly well.

Turning his attention back to Laurel, Oliver nodded in agreement to her last comment and picked up the bottle of red wine on their table to top his glass up. He motioned with the bottle first towards Laurel's glass in a silent question but she shook her head.

"No thank you," she said, "I have an early start tomorrow morning."

"Fair enough," Oliver agreed congenially as he finished filling his own glass and placed the wine bottle back in its original spot. "So, what will the next step be then?" He asked referring to the case she had been discussing. Things had been particularly stressed between them recently so it was probably best that he show more interest than he actually felt. He had no doubt however, that they were still on track for the inevitable breakup which was soon due.

As Laurel delved into her thought process regarding the current options available to her client, Oliver discreetly turned his attention to the surrounding dinners.

His head tilted to the side as he caught sight of Bruce Wayne making his way across the restaurant to the table which had been reserved for him, his hand placed on the back of his dinner companion as he guided her along.

Shifting in his seat Oliver attempted to get a look at the woman with Bruce, but the older man's body obscured his view as he pulled out her seat which was unfortunately facing away from him. He caught a glimpse of blonde hair but that was it.

What was Bruce doing in town? Contemplating the question Oliver cast his mind back to see if he was forgetting any pertinent bits of information but as far as he was aware he wasn't.

Bruce wasn't in town looking to do any business with Queen Consolidated and he hadn't heard anything on the grapevine about the CEO flying out to have a meeting with any other corporate business whose headquarters were based out of Starling City.

Nor was Starling City a romantic destination when you were a billionaire.

Presumably in that case, the woman he was with resided here, or had done at some point. But a trip back home to visit family would suggest a somewhat serious relationship…if that was the case someone would have mentioned it or he'd have caught sight of it splashed across the tabloids.

He craned his head trying to catch sight of the blonde woman to find out if he recognised her, something niggled at him that he knew her but he wasn't quite sure.

"Oliver!"

Jolted back the present; Oliver turned his attention back to the brunette in front of him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Just surprised to see Bruce Wayne here," he explained.

"So you weren't just ignoring me and checking out his date then?" his girlfriend replied acidly.

"No, there's just something familiar about her but I can't place it."

"Probably one of your past conquests," Laurel remarked, "just out of curiosity, were we together or not when you slept her?"

Locking his jaw in place to prevent himself from saying anything that he would later regret, Oliver sat back in his chair and attempted to rein in his temper. What could he say to that? Maybe Laurel was being unfair but at the end of the day it was his past actions that enabled her to make such justifiable comments.

She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry," Laurel apologised contritely. "That's was unfair of me. I'm just stressed, work has been manic, I had an argument with Dad over plans for the 4th of July and when I got back to my car this evening I found out someone had keyed the side of it. Regardless, I shouldn't have taken it out on you. "

"It's ok."

"No it's not. You're supposed to me my boyfriend Oliver, not my verbal punching bag." Twisting her head around, Laurel searched for the couple that Oliver had become fixated on. Blondes weren't typically Oliver's preference but it was easy to see why the woman had caught his attention; her hair was eerily familiar to Felicity's, although Laurel had never seen the other woman with her hair in such a style before.

She opened her mouth to remark that it wasn't likely that Felicity was out for the evening with Bruce Wayne before thinking the better of it. Because no, that would not go down well. Just like he was with Thea, Oliver was startlingly protective of Felicity and fiercely guarded the time he spent with the blonde.

Instead she turned her attention back to the duck confit on her plate and focused on cutting up a couple of green beans.

Much like a spoilt child, she'd learnt the hard way that Oliver did not enjoy sharing Felicity's attention or what he deemed was his time with the blonde unless he was the one to invite someone into the little group. Unless it was Diggle. Diggle always seemed to be welcome, regardless of an invitation.

She was sure that there was something off about Oliver's relationship with the blonde IT girl, but she just couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Although, she thought bitterly, maybe that was just because for the first time she didn't feel worried about the thought of Oliver cheating on her.

Felicity was definitely _not_ that kind of girl.

And unfortunately Oliver doesn't appear to be that kind of man any longer.

She feels disgusted with herself at the thought that sometimes she wishes him cheating on her once again is a possibility. Because then it would give her a legitimate reason to leave and not feel guilty. It would all be on Oliver; she'd given him another chance and he was the one to screw it up.

Tommy wouldn't blame her for not making things work in that instance, would he?

It wasn't as though she was simply walking away because she'd gotten tired of fighting for a relationship that didn't seem to exist anymore.

Swallowing a mouthful of her food, Laurel took a sip of her wine and glanced across at Oliver only to find his attention was still focused on that of his business rival and the man's date.

She could mention something.

In fact several years ago she would have.

But tonight she just can't be bothered.

All she wants to do is finish dinner at a restaurant she suspects neither one of them really wants to be at, get home and take a shower to wash away the day before she falls into bed. Alone.

She's tired. So tired of this rollercoaster of a relationship that neither one of them can seem to get off of.

Even speculating on the possibility of Felicity on a date with Bruce Wayne wouldn't end well.

It's ridiculous really, that she works so hard to maintain some semblance of a relationship with Oliver when she'd allowed Tommy to give up on the idea of them so easily.

She'd let him walk away without a fight and then he died.

There was no second chance like she had with Oliver now. No opportunity to right the wrong. Instead he had died and she is forced to live with the consequences of her actions for the rest of her life.

Maybe Tommy would have still died in The Undertaking even if they were together but Laurel can't help but wonder if she would have found it easier to move on from that possibility than the reality of regrets, unspoken words and apologies she could never seek forgiveness for.

She'd always been so short with him when he'd dropped by at work and interrupted her to flirt and describe some new grandiose plan he'd put together… funnily enough, it was one of the things that she misses the most about him.

Absently Laurel pushed a stray string bean around on her plate before stopping abruptly as she realised what she was doing. Setting the cutlery down on her plate she turned her attention to the other diners in the room and tried to hide the fact that she couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Eventually the silence between them and Oliver's one-sided staring contest was brought to a premature end by the approach of their waiter to check that the food was to their satisfaction. They assure him it is, although Laurel could detect a shadow of doubt lurking behind his well trained facade as he removes her half eaten plate and Oliver's barely touched steak.

Within a moment he is back at their table to present them with the desert menu and a promise to return shortly once they have had a chance to review it.

"Would you excuse me for moment?" Oliver asks as he stands, "I'm just going to pop to the restroom."

Forcing a smile to her face Laurel nodded despite the knowing full well that it was simply a pretence to get a look at the woman sat opposite Bruce Wayne.

Turning on his heel, Oliver casually made his way across the restaurant, weaving in and out of the tables with ease.

He's being silly, Oliver tells himself, absolutely ridiculous. He would know if Felicity was planning an evening out with Bruce Wayne. She would have told him, or Diggle. And then Diggle would have told him.

But something in his gut is telling him different, logic doesn't appear to be winning this particular battle.

But if his gut was right and it was Felicity sat opposite Bruce then what on earth was she doing there?

The older man had similar tastes to his own before the island; style over substance with very little interest in anything else.

Felicity didn't grow up in their world. She isn't the type of woman to attract Bruce's attention. She might be beautiful inside and out, but it isn't the kind of brash beauty that so many of the woman of their acquaintance portray.

She isn't familiar with the manipulative games that are often played for no other reason than boredom.

She isn't someone to be picked up one evening and then discarded the following morning.

She doesn't work like that. In fact, he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't one of the things that attracts him to her so much. She is so genuine. He loves her rambling; she doesn't say one thing while thinking another.

She doesn't try to hide anything from him. She is always honest, even when, sometimes he doesn't want to hear it.

Felicity isn't cut out for one night stands or a weekend fling. She's the real deal, the one that you take home to your parents, the girl you date knowing that at some point, when you're both ready you'll put a ring on her finger. Because as up to date a Felicity is when it comes to technology, as modern as her beliefs regarding equality, there are still some parts of her that are delightfully old fashioned and her views regarding marriage is one of them.

But Bruce is not that kind of man. Instead he'll hurt her, crush her vivacity, damage the way she looks at the world around her which to his amazement is always with such hope despite the things that she has seen in her time working with him.

He won't let Bruce destroy that, not like he himself did with Laurel.

But first things first, he needs to clarify if the mystery woman is actually Felicity. With that in mind, as inconspicuously as possible, Oliver moved across the room as he kept a discreet eye on the couple who had set his alarm bells ringing.

There was just something so familiar about the slender slope of the woman's neck…the gentle curve of her shoulders…the blonde hair made up of so many different honey coloured tones. ..

Just then the woman tilted her head slightly and Oliver caught sight of her profile.

The world seems to freeze around him.

The gentle hum of quiet conversation, the music from the piano, and the concealed swish of the service door leading into the kitchen, all of it fades away as his eye lock onto Felicity…

The sight of her sat there with Wayne of all people…it completely knocks him off-guard.

His chest feels tight and he's vaguely aware of his heart pounding franticly in his chest but he can't tear his attention from the intimate scene in front of him.

He'd thought…

He'd had his suspicions…but to see it actually right there in front of him…

Felicity…_his Felicity_… with Bruce Wayne!

"Mr Queen? Mr Queen?"

Oliver's head twists to the side so quickly that the movement results in a loud crack of protest from his neck.

There is a waiter standing in front of him, one that he'd been completely unaware of. Such a mistake on the island would have gotten him killed. Instead the young man eyes him with concern as though he's a dangerous wild animal while the look in his eye tells Oliver that the only thing he wants to be doing now is backing away slowly. He can see the man in front of him speaking but can't make sense of it; his mind still trying to process the knowledge that Felicity, _his Felicity,_ is out for dinner with Bruce Wayne. "W-what?" He can't help but ask in confusion forcing the waiter to repeat himself.

"Is everything alright Mr Queen? Would you like me to get someone?"

"I'm fine." He manages to gasp out as he struggles to regain control of the situation. "The bathroom," Oliver announces suddenly as he remembers the excuse he'd made to Laurel. "I appear to have missed the signs."

"Of course Mr Queen. You need to go back the way you came in," the waiter explains as he motions in the opposite direction of where Felicity is sitting with Bruce Wayne. "Turn left and you'll find them on the right hand side down the hall."

"Thank you." Without further ado Oliver spun around, mindlessly following the directions he'd been given.

Bursting into the restroom he was relieved to see that it was empty.

It's the posh kind of restroom, with individual cubicles and a carpeted floor in the main area. Along the back wall there is a marble counter with several sinks set into the smooth black stone behind which a large mirror sits fixed to the wall. There are individual hand towels neatly folded by the sinks, a laundry bin set at the end in which they could be discarded after use.

A couple of antique wooden chairs are placed in the near corner by the door with a small round table set between then on which sits a vase of flowers.

Snatching hold of one of the chairs Oliver tilts it onto its back legs and wedges it beneath the door handle to prevent anyone from disturbing him.

That done he sucks in a lungful of air to try and calm himself down, but the sound of his shaky exhale doesn't help.

His heart is still pounding in his chest and Oliver swears that he can feel his entire body jerk in time with each heartbeat.

Just breathe, he coached himself. Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Exhale. Just breathe.

Stumbling towards the sinks he catches hold of the edge of the marble counter top and braces his body against the cold stone.

Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Exhale.

His skin feels hot and clammy; the suit jacket comes off and is carelessly tossed to the floor by his feet. Jerking at collar of his shirt the top button pops off and the motion causes the once elegant knot of his tie to become a tight mass of fabric which is likely going to have to be cut off because it is not going to be easily unpicked.

His hands once again grasp the marble counter and his head dips down to rest against the edge of the icy ceramic sink.

The little food he'd actually eaten sits heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach as though rebelling against his decision to consume it. Bile rises in the back of his throat but Oliver forces it back down through sheer willpower.

Despite his locked knees, his legs still feel unstable but he's going to let the feeling beat him.

The symptoms he's got now, if he didn't know better he'd think he'd been poisoned.

His mind flashes back to the sight of Felicity sat opposite Wayne. Smiling at him. Leaning forward in encouragement as the man talked. Flirting with him.

She'd worn that dress for Wayne. She'd worn those high heels for him. She'd flawlessly applied her makeup for him. She'd painted her lips a deep shade of seductive red for him. She'd deliberately chosen to encourage _that man's_ attentions.

Anger burns hot and bright at the knowledge and has him gritting his teeth. His heart rate starts to pick up once and he lashes out with a growl; his foot catching the wooden panelling beneath the sink and causing it to splinter underneath the force of his kick.

He has spent, Oliver thinks, the better part of the evening trying to figure out who she was; his gut screaming at him that the person sitting opposite Wayne wasn't just some random women. He'd known on some subconscious level that it had been Felicity, despite the fact that he hadn't had a clear view of her.

Something inside of him had known the truth that he didn't want to admit. His eyes have been on her constantly throughout the evening ever since she'd entered the restaurant, his digging into the back of her neck and she hadn't turned around once.

Felicity hadn't paid him the slightest bit of attention.

She hadn't demonstrated a single hint of awareness that she knew he was in the same room.

How was it possible that he could be so hypersensitive to her presence and yet she didn't pick up on his own at all?

Instead all of her attention had been focused on Bruce Wayne and his smarmy manners. Completely ignorant of the covetous, hungry look in the older man's eye because she is that damn innocent.

Because she doesn't think for a moment that men look at her and think about more than her brain and IQ level.

There has to be more to this than Wayne suddenly deciding to hop on a plane to Starling City and take Felicity out to dinner Oliver tells himself.

His Gotham counterpart must have made contact with Felicity at some point before today in order for her to agree to go out with him.

What is the man after?

He'd never thought of Wayne as the corporate espionage type but he could be wrong. Before he'd been marooned upon the island their age difference had meant that they'd had very little to do with each other and since he's been back he'd hardly bothered to keep track of the various socialites within his circle of acquaintance unless they were listed within his father's notebook.

Is Wayne trying to squeeze information out of Felicity about Queen Consolidated over the course of a date? Attempting to lure her to Wayne Industries with the promise of a job if she'll spill just a few trade secrets?

He has no doubt that Wayne knows just how close he is to Felicity.

Everybody knows how important Felicity is to him.

Their close relationship and his protective attitude towards her has become somewhat of a standing joke in their circles.

There must be an ulterior motive.

With that in mind Oliver pushes himself up and away from the sink his legs feeling slightly steadier as he decides on his course of action.

It's no good for him to be hidden away in the restroom trying to analyse the scenario to death. He needs to be out there, in the restaurant to he can watch what is going on and be ready to step in when the time calls for it or Felicity demonstrates the smallest hint of unease at the situation she's managed to embroil herself in.

He and Felicity are going to have a very serious talk about her choice of dates after they have all made it through the evening.

Twisting the cold water tap on, Oliver lets it run for a moment before dipping his hands under the running water in order to splash some on his face. It's cold and refreshing on his skin and helps settle his racing mind. He needs to be collected and rational about this.

Felicity is going to be hurt enough when she discovers that Wayne has been toying with her. She doesn't need him overreacting on top of all that. He needs to be there for her, he'll deal with his own feelings in due course.

Switching off the tap, Oliver blots himself dry with one of the hand towels and tosses it in the designated laundry basket.

The face staring back at him in the mirror is pale, with a set jaw and hard eyes that contain a dangerous barely controlled rage. There are a few damp splotches of water splattered across his shirt Oliver observed in a somewhat detached manner, but no one is likely to say anything he thinks while reaching up to yank his tie back into a centre position. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about the state of the knot.

Bruce Wayne, he vowed to himself, would learn first-hand just what happened when someone tries to get to him through Felicity.

Sweeping up his suit jacket from the floor Oliver pulled it back on as he stalked across the restroom to remove the chair from where he'd wedged it against the door and placed it haphazardly next to its partner.

Just in time, Oliver thought to himself as another patron of the restaurant entered through the door.

Leaving the bathroom he strode down the hallway towards the dining area catching sight of his waiter en-route.

Catching the other man's eye Oliver paused and motioned for him to come over. "Tally up my bill," he instructed while handing over his credit card, "along with the one belonging to Mr Wayne's table. There was also a small incident in the restroom, make sure you take the card details and charge the damages to me."

The waiter barely had time to confirm his agreement before Oliver brushed past him with a remark over his shoulder stating that he would be at his table.

Navigating his way back to his table Oliver makes sure to keep his eyes fastened on Felicity and watched her dinner partner with an eagle eye.

"Where have you been?" Laurel exclaimed as Oliver sat back down across from her. "I was beginning to think that you had gone off and left me here!"

Without bothering to glance at his girlfriend, Oliver responded with a grunt of acknowledgement while pensively drumming his fingers on the table.

"A grunt isn't an answer Oliver! You left me sitting here for nearly fifteen minutes!" Laurel hissed at him between gritted teeth. This was not the place for a public argument but he couldn't honestly expect to disappear off for quarter of an hour and not offer an excuse. She wasn't ignorant to the state of his clothing either, something had happened.

The approach of their waiter stalled her next comment and she waited until the small silver tray holding the bill and Oliver's credit card was deposited on the table and the waiter was moving away from them before speaking again.

"Oliver!" Growing extremely frustrated with the way her boyfriend was deliberately ignoring her to stare in the direction of Bruce Wayne once again, Laurel twisted round in her seat once again.

Felicity.

Well that certainly explained Oliver's preoccupation.

Not that it was any excuse for his behaviour.

"Are you going to refuse to look at me now as well as speak to me?" Laurel spat out. Whatever she was about to next though was brought to an abrupt stop as Oliver's eyes cut across to her. Glacial blue eyes held her gaze for a long moment before they were turned back in the direction of Felicity without their owner saying a word.

She likes to think that she isn't easily intimidated; you can't be, in her line of work but there was something about the look in Oliver's eyes that sets her on edge.

Not for the first time she wonders who the man that returned to her from the island really is.

She hasn't been ignorant to the fact that Oliver conceals a lot from her. Rather idiotically, she thinks now, is that she had been under the impression that his mask was in relation to the PTSD he suffered from; an attempt to down play the traumatic aspects of what he'd been through as a defence against morbid curiosity.

But it's with a chilling realisation that the rose tinted glasses are ripped away from her face as she'd forced to confront the reality of what Oliver's blandly charming mask hides from her.

She recognises that look on his face.

She's confronted with it each time she is required to visit Iron Heights Prison to visit an inmate.

That look in Oliver's eye, it's the cold and calculating look which some of the most dangerous criminals possessed; institutionalised from the length of time they'd been locked up for. There are times that even with the metal bars separating her from them and the various prison guards milling about she still doesn't feel safe from them.

Sudden movement from Oliver has her jerking back to the present and she watches in silence as he stands to slide his credit card and their bill into his pocket.

A quick glance shows that Felicity is making her way down to the dance floor with Bruce following her close behind.

"We're leaving. Now. Get Diggle." Oliver told her in short, clipped words not even bothering to look in her direction.

Without waiting for a response Oliver walked off in the direction of the table that Felicity had been sitting at with Bruce.

She'd left her clutch bag on the table and underneath it sat the letter which Bruce had handed over during the time he'd been observing the pair of them.

Not bothering to pay any attention to the disapproving looks from the surrounding diners Oliver slid the letter out from beneath Felicity's clutch bag and opened it without ceremony.

Fury rushed through him as he scanned the contents of the document; a covering letter which hinted at previous contact between the two of them initiated by Felicity making a general enquiry relating to any positions his company might have available and accompanied by a draft employment contract which outlined extremely generous terms.

This meeting between the two of them hasn't happened by chance.

Felicity has kept this from him.

She'd deliberately hidden the decision to look for work on the other side of the country when she already has a perfectly good job at Queen Consolidated.

Oliver's aware that he's deliberately fanning the flames of his anger, but it's the only feeling he knows how to deal with at the moment so he's going to hold onto it for all it's worth.

Without a second thought he tore the contract in half and then into quarters before holding it over the naked flame of the tea light candle which had been placed on the centre of the table. Fire quickly eats away at the paper and he tossed the burning remains into Bruce Wayne's empty wine glass without a second thought before turning his attention to the couple who had come to a stop in the middle of the dance floor and watches through narrowed eyes as Bruce's thumb skates along Felicity's lower lip.

Enough is enough.

That man does not have the right to touch her in such a way.

He is putting an end to this right now.

* * *

A/N: Ok, so I know it wasn't the confrontation a lot of you were hoping for (that will be coming during the next chapter - I promise!) but I genuinely think that any showdown between Oliver and Felicity isn't going to be anywhere near as interesting if you don't understand what is going on with Oliver...so...I won't lie, I am slightly worried about the reception of this chapter after the amazing feedback from the other two...smiley faces?


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